My Heart's Bleeding Wound
by AnnieOakley16
Summary: Morwen has lost everything,a life,a dream,a love.After the battle of Minas Tirith,her whole life was altered.But when destiny calls her to the Houses of Healing,she meets Faramir,wounded and lonely,she must face the reality of loss and her wound..PLZ R&R!
1. Duty to the Wounded

**Duty to the Wounded**

"I will always love you."

I remember him saying that, just before he went to the Northern Wall and never came back to me. His body was never found in the rubble scattered about the city of Minas Tirith. I was alone…again.

My mother had left me; my father had left me…now _he_ was gone as well… I could only walk among the white streets of the city, alone and helpless. There was nothing left for me…nothing to satisfy the hunger within my soul. I needed someone…anyone.

The city was busy, recovering from the fierce battle we had almost lost. To me, we had lost; or if anyone did, it was me.

"Morwen, dear, please take care of yourself!" Kendria said, her voice filled with only the best of concerns. She was my only friend, if that's what you'd call her. She had taken me in under the worst of times and has cared for me ever since that day of loss.

She served the Steward, who was missing as well…Many believe a suicide, but all I can think of is my loss…my heart's bleeding wound.

"What exactly do you mean? I am still alive, am I not?" I asked her as I folded linens in a pathetic attempt to act normal.

"You need to be productive again. That is why I have arranged for you a duty to the Houses of Healing. Maybe you will find…_him _amongst the wounded." she said, knowing not to mention his name around me.

"What am I to do there?" I asked.

"Well, whatever they may need you to. They need as much help as can be provided and I thought it would be good for you."

I just nodded, knowing I couldn't get out of a duty to the city and the wounded. And deep inside, somewhere within me, I hoped beyond hope that _he _would be there, waiting for me to save him…

XXX

I walked up the white street toward the Houses of Healing, finding it a longer walk then I had imagined. It was as if with each step I took, the path grew longer and longer; my nervousness growing with each breath that I took.

I had a mass of horrifying images racing through my mind, occupying my whole attention. The fire, the crashes, the screams…the blood…All terrifying reminders of the battle we had been forced into. Nothing good came out of war; not one thing.

I reached the double doors of the Houses of Healing, pausing for a few everlasting moments. This was my destiny…A haven for the wounded and lost…and I was entering into the center of the pain of their losses; helping me to face my own…

2


	2. Worthy of Ruin?

**Worthy of Ruin? **

My hand rested on the door; I was trying to steady myself so I could walk into the Houses of Healing with an air of confidence. But I knew that on the inside, my heart would be screaming and my mind would be racing as I caught the first glimpses of the wounded men.

I can't remember opening the door, walking in, or even talking to anyone. I just remember that I was among faces without knowing how I had joined them and that they all stared at me with empty, broken eyes. I just know that I knew how they felt…that I could relate to their sorrow.

"Morwen, we have many things for you to do," said Myla, an old woman who's life's work was to help those who have been physically or emotionally wounded. "But for now, please take the men water."

She handed me a pitcher of sparkling water, a gentle smile on her face. I took it without question and went to each room with an imaginary smile on my face, trying to act cheerful but inside sorrow threatened to seep through.

After a number of rooms, I began to understand more about what may have transpired in the battle that had raged days before. The men were willing to talk about the intensity of their passion to save the city, but never the actual battle itself.

I came to a closed door later in the day, feeling slightly more alive and knocked twice. No one answered.

"Water." I said simply, knocking once more.

"Come in." said a gruff, weak voice from behind the door.

I pushed the door open gently. Putting on my fake smile, I walked in and saw the source of the voice. The Steward's son…

He was sitting on his bed, a frown pulling his face down with a gloomy air. His bronze hair was tangled from fretful sleep and his eyes fell down in weariness. I could only stand there and stare at him, as if I knew speaking would ruin his peace. I walked to the window after a long moment of daydreams and poured water into a marble basin.

"When will this sorrow be done?" he asked as I turned and shuffled to the door.

"What do you mean, Sir?" I said, stopping. I knew precisely what he meant, just didn't know what to say when I myself was confused.

"This…inhumanity…" he replied with a hint of disdain.

"Soon."

He looked up. "Soon? How can it be so?"

I walked over to him, a hint of impatience creeping up into my flushed cheeks. "I know not how. Only that it will be so, because all works out for those who are...diligent and worthy."

He grimaced as I spoke, looking up at me with a fire in his eyes. "So we are worthy of ruin?"

"I did not say that, Sir!" I exclaimed.

"But 'tis what you meant!" he shouted.

"No, you misunderstand me. I only mean that if we work hard enough, we will defeat this 'inhumanity'."

"_That_ seems impossible!" he whispered.

I didn't know what to say to console him or help him. I myself had been wondering the same exact thing as he was and had come to no true answer. I couldn't stand there and give Faramir false hope. So I left with only an unnoticed bow and closed the door without a word.

4


End file.
